


Wednesdays with You

by stuckathomewriting (ItsGonnaBeMei)



Category: Betty en NY (TV 2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:47:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27112147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsGonnaBeMei/pseuds/stuckathomewriting
Summary: What if Ricardo had never made that damning video that exposed The Plan?  What if Betty never found out she was being toyed with?  What if Armando and Marcela's wedding had pushed through?  What if Armando and Betty's secret relationship had stayed on the track it was going?  Submitted for the approval of the Midnight Society, I call this story "Wednesdays with You".
Relationships: Armando Mendoza / Betty Rincon
Comments: 3
Kudos: 2





	Wednesdays with You

**Author's Note:**

> I have been toying with this AU idea for the past few days: "What if Ricardo had never made that damning video that exposed The Plan? What if Betty never found out she was being toyed with? What if Armando and Marcela's wedding had pushed through? What if Armando and Betty's secret relationship had stayed on the track it was going?" Please let me know if you think I should continue! Feedback would be very appreciated.

JFK AIRPORT, A YEAR AGO

Ricardo fished his phone out of his pocket and fired up his selfie camera to make a video. He wanted to taunt his best friend about having to sleep with ugly woman so they can keep her under control and take their company back.

However, as he was about to hit the record button he thought better of the idea. Videos were evidence and in a game that was as dangerous as the one he and his best friend were playing, evidence was the last thing anyone needed. Ricardo pocketed his phone and got himself a big box of condoms from the airport duty-free instead. He had big plans for his best friend's girl, after all.

\---

BETTY'S APARTMENT, UPPER MANHATTAN, PRESENT DAY

“I’ll be right there! Just a moment!” Betty called out as she rushed to her little apartment’s door. She lives by herself in East Harlem now. She hasn’t lived in Jackson Heights with her parents for over a year. She couldn’t and carry on with Armando, now a married man with a baby on the way. Betty took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and put a smile on her face. It was a Wednesday. Armando always “worked late” on Wednesdays, only going home to – she shook her head – only going home Thursday afternoons.

Surely enough, it was Armando at the door when she opened it, in his arms a big bouquet of twelve red Ecuadorian roses, her favorite. She kissed his cheek as she took them with one arm while her free hand joined his. Like he always did, he lifted the hand that was in his and kissed it before saying, “I’m home.” The words always made Betty’s eyes a little teary. She doubted that was ever going to change.

It has been a year since Armando and Marcela’s wedding. It had been the biggest one that Betty had ever attended – over 500 guests from both the fashion and showbiz industries. Señorita Catalina had been very kind and made her over for that one day, looking strangely sad as she helped Betty tame her wild hair into a bun. Betty had wondered if Catalina knew about them, but decided that it wasn’t important. Betty had made her choice, and her choice was him.

As Betty took down a vase from the shelf above her little kitchen sink, she smiled at him and cheerfully said, “Well, _mi amor,_ I hope you’re hungry. I talked to my mother on the phone earlier today and she gave me a new recipe for tamales. My cooking will never be as good as hers but the recipe is good. You like chicken, don’t you?”

Armando smiled and nodded at her from where he sat on her sofa. “I like everything you make. You could make me poison and I would eat it happily from your hands.”

Betty felt blood rushing to her cheeks and fat tears traitorously rolled down her cheeks. Armando visibly looked alarmed as he rushed to hold her in his arms. He kissed her forehead and whispered into her ear. “I’ve made you cry. I’m sorry I always make you cry.”

Betty buried her face where his neck met his strong shoulder. “I just missed you these past few weeks. Marcela’s pregnancy is a delicate one, isn’t it?” He nodded, his bearded face rubbing against the delicate skin of her temple. She looked up at him and searched his eyes. “I still stand by what I said that night on your office couch. I choose you. But if you feel that you need to leave me now and concentrate on building your life with Marcela – with your _family_ – I will let you go.” She forced herself to smile but the tears wouldn’t stop falling. She felt like she would never, ever stop crying and yet her hands found their way to his shoulders, kneading them comfortingly as if her heart wasn’t breaking inside her.

Armando’s response was to take her face into his hands and kiss her deeply. She found he always did that whenever he wanted to distract her – primarily because his kisses always did. She was so in love with him that the thought of being without him makes it hard for her to breathe. She had even ended her friendship with Nicolas, as much as that had hurt. She vastly preferred the breathlessness brought by his lips trying to devour hers. She always would.

He was hard against her hip now, and his hands had found their way to her bottom. Their kisses turned deep and desperate. Wednesdays always did that to them. As she mouthed along his chiseled jaw, Betty thought briefly of Marcela who was at the Hamptons being cooed over by the Mendozas, probably just a little miffed about Armando regularly choosing to work through the night on Wednesdays but still none the wiser. Why would Manhattan’s most beautiful executive and fashion’s most influential mother-to-be have anything to worry about when his assistant was such an ugly woman? Betty thanked God and whoever might be listening for small mercies. Nobody suspected a thing.

Armando made quick work of their clothes and carried Betty upstairs to her bedroom, kicking the bedroom door shut and locking it. It was a nervous habit he had developed after Nicolas had walked in on them on the Wednesday after his wedding last year and gotten an eyeful. Armando and Nicolas had duked it out right there in Betty’s bedroom while Betty yelled at both of them to stop fighting, wearing nothing but a sheet. In the end, Nicolas had asked her to choose between their friendship and her relationship with Armando. Betty had sunk onto her bed and told Nicolas to go, her voice choked up with tears. That was the last time she and Nicolas ever spoke. He resigned from BAR the next day and, according to her parents, moved to Florida to be with his grandmother.

As Armando laid Betty on her bed, one of her hands reached behind her pillow and pulled out a condom packet that she kept under there. She was on the pill but she also knew that pills weren’t fool-proof. She handed the little packet to Armando who smiled at her before taking one and putting it on himself. Betty touched his face briefly before finally resting her hand on a strong arm. She let her hand travel down his arm and took his hand in hers.

In an instant, Armando’s mouth was on hers again and his weight pressed her down into her sheets, his body aligning with hers, preparing for entry. She wrapped her legs around his waist and opened her mouth to his as he rained kisses on her neck and face while slowly entering her in one long stroke. Her first moan died in his throat, as did her second and third. When she was sure she wouldn’t scream, she finally allowed herself to break the kiss, whispering into his ear. “I love you,” she breathed over and over as she met him at every crest, his teeth biting at her shoulder and collarbone where no one would see the marks the next day. Betty forced her eyes to open and kissed his cheek, observing him as he made love to her. His eyes were closed and the muscles on his shoulders and chest contracted and relaxed with the effort. She could barely remember her name at that point but she forced herself to focus on him, adjusting her movements to match his and finding pleasure in giving him pleasure. Her eyes closed again as she and Armando engaged in this most ancient of dances for what felt to her like hours. Eventually she gave over to her climax, him following shortly after.

She stroked his hair as she came down from her high and while he covered her neck and collarbone with kisses, staying inside her all the while. When he appeared to have had his fill, she felt him touch his forehead to hers and kiss her nose as he slowly pulled out of her. She tried to follow but it would seem he had other plans as he slid further down the bed to get between her legs. She smiled down at him and he, up at her. When he was face-to-face with the apex of her thighs, Armando delicately ran his hands over her inner thighs, looking like he was marveling at her skin as he sucked at and kissed every inch of her before him. He then grinned up at her as he started licking and kissing at her entrance, his practiced tongue causing Betty’s eyes to roll up into her head and her completely forget who she was as she came.

She woke up to Armando gently touching her cheek with a finger. He was grinning down at her this time because he had apparently slid up to the headboard and gathered her into his arms, her head resting on his chest. Betty closed her eyes and listened contentedly to Armando’s chuckles and the thumping of his heart. Betty gave him a small, unsure smile. He grinned at her in return.

“You fell asleep. Rude, but I take it as a compliment,” he joked.

Betty blushed in spite of herself and all they had done. “You should. You’re always amazing,”

Armando’s expression fell at that. “Only you seem to think so nowadays.” He sighed then. “Betty, I don’t think I could live without you.”

She shook her head and kissed his chest. “You could if you needed to. I hope that you won’t choose to, though.” She worried her lip as she studied his face. “I know I can’t live without you.” Betty closed her eyes as she felt his lips on the top of her head.

Armando sounded so sad as he confessed, “I saw Marcela kissing Ricardo today so I confronted them. I asked them if the baby was mine and she said she didn’t know. Can you imagine?” He kissed her head again before asking, “Is it weird that I love that baby but I wish so hard for it not to be mine?”

Betty took Armando’s free hand and kissed his forefinger for no real reason other than being allowed to do so.

“Betty,”

She looked up at him, settling upon his eyes. “Hmm?”

“Did you know?”

She nodded hesitantly, not meeting his eyes.

She felt him tense. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

She held his gaze with hers. “Because it was her secret to tell. Besides, I would have felt like a hypocrite, telling you about her and Ricardo when we are doing the same thing.”

She felt him relax underneath her. “It’s not the same thing.”

Betty rolled away from him and clutched a nearby pillow to herself. “It is and you know it.”

Armando followed her and wrapped an arm around her waist, drawing her close. He whispered into her ear. “I want a baby with you.”

Betty tensed. There were too many complications. Too many people who would be hurt. Too many things – but her mouth worked faster than her brain this time. “Me, too. I want us to be a family more than anything.” As soon as she said the words, she broke down. She turned back to him and buried his face in his chest, sobbing hard. It seemed that all she ever did lately was cry whenever she thought of the two of them – she and Armando – so desperately in love but having to hide that love in the shadows. It was like trying to keep a candle under a bushel. If they were not careful, they might end up burning the house down.

Armando looked radiant. “Then why don’t we be a family?” His grin turned naughty. “You know we’re good at the babymaking part,”

She wetly giggled as she mildly tapped his chest. “I swear, Armando. You’re twelve years old and I don’t know why I love you. But I do love you. I kind of almost wish I didn’t.”

Armando held her tighter, his face worried. She hadn’t seen him that worried since before they were able to get V&M back into the black several months ago. “You don’t mean that.”

Betty relaxed. “No. I don’t. I let go of the most important people in my life to be in this with you – my parents, Nico – but I can’t bring myself to regret it.”

Armando sounded like he was about to cry. “I’m sorry, Betty. For everything,”

She kissed him and immediately got on her knees on the bed, straddling his torso. He helped her sit on his pelvis, where she could feel his interest building again. She lowered her body onto his and gently pressed her forehead against his. “I’m not. I am, however, sorry that you are in so much pain. I wish I could take your pain from you, but I can’t. All I can do is love you and try to make you forget for a while.” Her hand reached between them, slowly stroking him to full arousal and watching as he slowly lost himself in her touch. She ran her thumb over the slit of his cock, enjoying the shiver she got from him with that small action.

“Betty, please…” he begged.

He really need not have, because as soon as he’d said her name, Betty had gotten off the bed, put her glasses on the bedside console, and knelt between his legs, slowly taking him into her mouth while carefully tucking her teeth away, making sure they didn’t scrape him. She kept swallowing down on him until she could feel the head of his cock in her throat. She gulped around him and grinned a little when he all but rammed himself in. This was something she was excellent at, he’d told her time and time again. She had long ago trained her gag reflex into nonexistence during sex, and Armando had also told her that Marcela had always found blow jobs to be demeaning and low-class. Betty begged to differ. She had Armando where she wanted him and she would not let go until he was satisfied. She bobbed her head up and down, applying suction, all the while oblivious to the growing discomfort in her neck. The look of utter ecstasy that must be on his face (she can’t see that far without glasses) was worth any amount of pain. There was absolutely nothing she wouldn’t do for him. A few moments or a few hours later – she wasn’t sure, she felt his cum paint her throat. She pumped him for every drop, even licking his shaft to take in any runaways. When she was done, she dropped herself into his arms, her face against his neck.

“My GOD you’re incredible,” Armando breathed.

Betty shrugged. “I have to keep you with me somehow,” Betty joked. Armando had told her long ago in Miami never to call herself ugly and she never did after that. How could she when he always made her feel so desired and loved?

Betty let herself get pulled into his arms again and closed her eyes when she felt his lips on her forehead. She couldn’t remember closing her eyes but she was drifting off again, it seemed.

“You want my baby,” Armando stated, his thumb stroking her shoulder back and forth where his hand was on it.

Betty lowered her eyes. “But we can’t. We only have this. We only have Wednesdays and we can’t always get what we want. If we could…”

“…we’d be married. Marcela would be in Europe somewhere, maybe with her sister. And then you and I would have a baby – maybe a daughter who looks like you. That would be our life,”

Betty kissed his cheek and turned his face so that his gaze met hers. “This is what we have and I am thankful for it. For you. As long as I have you, nothing else really matters.”

She felt him tense again underneath her. He always did whenever she said things like that to him. Someday she would ask him why, but they were together and they were happy. She would wait for him to tell her. He would have to tell her someday, wouldn’t he? She closed her eyes and laid her head on his chest. Whatever it was could wait.


End file.
